Perseverence
by floppyearsthebunny
Summary: Perseverance isn't easy when the whole world seems to be against you. The four Monarchs have been captured and taken to Calormen. What awaits them there? Four years after The Horse and His Boy.On pause for now. Possible permanently paused due to concerns.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia, Peter, Edmund, Orieus or anything that's C.S. Lewis's or from the movie. **

**Don't read this story if you don't like injury to the Pevensie Monarchs! **

**I changed the time of Rabadash's attack on Anvard to the 6**th** years of their reign instead of the fourteenth or fifteenth. During the Golden Age, Peter is 24, Susan is 23 and has black hair, Edmund is 19 and has dark hair like Susan and Lucy is 18 and has brown hair. After Rabadash returned to Calormen, his father was so humiliated that he named Rabadash's 2nd brother Rufus, Crown Prince. Rufus is desperate for approval and Power. He is just as cruel as Rabadash but with a greater love for his father than Rabadash has.**

**History:** Calormen invaded The Lone Islands, Terebintha, and Galma. Calormen promised The Lone Islands, Terebintha, and Galma that they could keep their rulers, laws and traditions, if they helped Calormen, and that they (the Lone Islands, Terebintha, and Galma) were to keep up pretenses that everything was fine. Terebintha and Galma refused and their country was taken over by Calormen, which left the gate, open for Calormen to sail in and take Cair Paravel without anyone knowing until it was to late.

**Prolog: Susan's P.O.V.(point of view) **This tale begins 4 years after my ordeal with Rabadash and is the tale of how Rabadash took his revenge. I never thought Rabadash would trouble me any more, given his condition. I never knew how one selfish act could cause so many problems and hurts long after its time. We never knew Narnia was under threat as Terebinthia and Galma never had a chance to send a warning. Sadly my little brother and Sister were the first to know.

**Lucy's P.O.V.**

It was noon, the sun bright in the sky on a fair Narnian day as my brother Edmund, Mr. Tumnus, and I sat picnicking in the woods. The shade of towering in trees so close together provide a cool spot find shelter from the heat of the sun.

Glancing up at the break in the trees through which the sun filtered down, Edmund said quietly. "Lucy, we should head back soon, Peter and Susan will worrying. I'm going to make sure the horses are fine. With swift purposeful strides, he left the glade.

I nodded, and began gather up the dishes and food left from their picnic. "I'm so glad you came to visit us, Mr. Tumnus."

"As am I, Queen Lucy," my friend replied, handing me the plate of sandwiches to package pack up.

"I am only sorry you have to return home so soon."

The older faun just smiled and helped me finish packing up our picnic basket. "Thank you for inviting me, My Queen. It was a pleasure." He bowed and I curtsied, then we laughed at absurdity of formality between friends.

"Farewell, My Queen. Aslan protect you."

"And you as well, Mr. Tumnus, take care of yourself," I replied. Goodbyes said, I watched him turn and head down the forest trail back to his home.

Several minutes, went by and Edmund still had not returned. "Oh _dear_,_ I hope he hasn't been waiting for me all this time."_ Grabbing up my cloak and picnic basket, I headed for the entrance to the forest, where we had left our horses. One could practically see Cair Paravel from there. I walked out into the open to where our horses had been, but they weren't there and neither was Edmund. _"Where was Edmund? Where are the horses? What has happened?" _Then suddenly something hit the back of my head hard and everything went back.

* * *

**Peter's P.O.V.**

I had just had lunch and Susan and I were sitting in my study discussing about how best to strengthen Narnia's uneasy relations with Calormen. When all of a sudden, we heard the sound of many heavy feet coming down the hall and suddenly the door was thrown open and many armed men filed in.

I drew his sword and told Susan to get behind me. The men parted and two Calormen Captains walked in holding Edmund and Lucy. They were both bound. "_Oh Lu, what did they do to you?_" One of the Calormen solders had a sword to Lucy's neck and another man had a sword to Edmund's. Then the prince of Calormen walked in to the room.

"I would put down that sword if I were you, unless you wish to be relieved of a few family members. You wouldn't want to see your sister die would you?" He said gesturing toward Lucy with an evil smile on his face.

"What do you want?" I asked him coldly.

"Narnia. Wasn't that obvious? Like I said put down your sword, unless you want me to dispatch your lovely sister?" he sneered.

Suddenly a crossbow bolt came out of nowhere and went through my hand and into my desk. "Men, the High King has something of my brother's. Relive him of it and bind him, while you're at it. But, be careful both can be deadly, armed or not.

I tried to defend myself and Susan but, it's very hard to fight with your hand pinned to a desk. Someone tried to bind Susan, so I knocked him out of the way. As I turned to face my next man, the now furious man I had knocked out of the way, had the smart idea to bring his sword down on my head and I collapsed. but before I went unconscious, I heard Lucy and Susan frantically screaming for me as they were dragged away. "No! Peter! Peter!"


	2. Chapter 2

"I have brought your majesties together so you may see each other one last time. The Queens will be sent to the Tisroc as plunder," Rufus said, licking his lips in a most disgusting manner and leering at Queen Susan and Queen Lucy.

"King Edmund will be a servant for a noble in Calormen, and the dear High King," he said, with a feigned appearance of sorrow. "Will be executed at the Tisroc's pleasure." He finished passing sentence on Narnia's monarchs with an almost delighted smirk.

"I suggest you say your goodbyes now. The ship sails tonight" Rufus said, chuckling as they were lead away to the dungeon.

The guards apparently had never had any training on how to treat a lady as they roughly half-dragged, half-lead Lucy and Susan to their cell. They then shackled Peter's arms to the wall and clamped Edmund in chains. The girls were then thrown into the cell, landing on the hard stones.

The chamber was unfortunately a corner cell and thus there was no possible way of escape, not even a crack. The dwarf craftsmen had made the cells of the dungeon to keep prisoners in, not lend themselves to escape. Being underground the dungeon was cold although not dank. The only light in the room was from some torches that hung from brackets on the wall of the passageway and cell.

"Oh, Peter, I don't want you to die!" Lucy cried as she sobbed on her oldest brother's chest.

"Lu, I'm scared too. I don't want to die either, but I'm sure Aslan wouldn't let this happen if he didn't have a reason," Peter said, smiling down on his youngest sister.

"What reason can there be in this?" Susan exclaimed, gesturing to Peter's shackled wrists, the chains on Edmund, and the walls of the dungeon.

"I don't know, Su. I just know Aslan will be our good Lord, whether He means us to live or die."

"Well, at least we've improved the quality of these cells.

It's clean, well lit, and we're together and safe," Lucy said trying to be positive in the face of grim circumstances.

"Lucy, you don't understand do you?! They will kill him and he will be gone. Not gone like on some campaign. Gone. Forever. Never coming back. Ever!

"Susan Priscilla Marie Pevensie! Don't talk to Lucy that way! She knows just as well as you do what will happen, and she's just as upset as you!" Edmund shouted as he sat chained near Peter. He was frantically trying not to lash out and to ignore his own memories of being chained in the White Witch's prison.

"But you know what they'll do to him, Ed? What they'll most likely do to him now that the have "High King Peter the Magnificent" in their power?" Susan fumed as horrible visions of Peter at a public execution or being led to the Temple of Tash flashed through her mind. She knew Edmund was thinking the same thing.

"What about Peter, Su? Did you think about what he might be feeling? That he "The strong High King Peter the Magnificent" might be scared? Do you think he's excitedly anticipating it? Would you be? Don't you think he has it hard enough without you reminding him?"

"Easy Ed, Su." Peter said calmly, shivering in the damp air. His head hung from weariness and his eyes were half closed. From the weariness showing on his face they could see he was worn out from all the talk about his death.

"Oh, Peter. They'll do horrible things to you. Edmund and I have seen the do awful things to ordinary men, women, children and slaves. How much worse will they do to you, the High King of Narnia?" Susan grieved.

"Aslan is with us, Su. He will be with us even if he decides to calls me home. There, there, that's it. Let it all out," Peter comforted as Susan rested her head on her brother's shoulder.

Exhausted from the long and very stressful day, Lucy curled up next to Peter. She rested her head on his chest and placed her cape over Peter and herself.

"We need to pray."

"Aslan, your servants need Your help. We are defenseless. Protect and defend us. Strengthen us as we strive to do your will, and give us grace should it be your will to bring us into your country," Peter prayed, his voice strong and resolute while inwardly quaking with fear.

As dawn crept over the horizon, their captors found them curled together. Peaceful sleep graced their faces, their cares forgotten for a little while.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia,Tumnus, Edmund, Peter or the White Witch or anything that's C.S. Lewis's. **

The sound of the dungeon's heavy, oaken door being opened filled the echoing chamber and Peter's eyes instantly snapped open. He listened for a moment and heard the distant sound of metal-shod feet marching on stone. A block of soldiers stepped down the stairs and entered the corridor outside their  
door. Quietly and so as not as to wake his youngest sister, he leaned over to Susan and gently whispered, "Susan, time to wake up. Help me wake everyone."

"Just a moment, Peter. Let me get dressed," mumbled the sleeping queen.

"Susan, wake up. The guards are coming," he said, urgency in his tone.

Opening her eyes, she let out a cry that she quickly stiffed as her hands covered her mouth. Memories of yesterday came flooding back as she looked around; memories of what would happen to them, to her older brother, her protector. "Oh, Peter!"

"I know. I know Su. But Aslan is in control. He knows where we are. But right now we need to wake Ed and Lu."

"Yes," she murmured, almost to herself. Then turning to her dark-haired brother she shook him gently, trying to avoid chafing his wrists while Peter woke Lucy. "Ed, wake up. Time to get up."

"Alright Su… Oh," he sighed, the same awful realization hitting him as he roused.

As Peter leaned down to wake Lucy, soldiers burst through the door, then parted to allow Prince Rufus to stride into the lowly chamber. He was freshly attired in heavily embroidered Calormene traveling clothes including a bejeweled turban and an exotic scimitar. A suffocatingly, strong perfume clung to his brightly colored clothes, filling the cell with its pungent scent. Had the situation not been so dire, the four would have had trouble restraining their laughter at foolishness of the prince's ridiculous outfit.

"How endearing, all curled together like a batch of new pups!" the Calormene  
prince sneered smugly. He stepped forward, drawing his scimitar. "Though even the most useless runt may be put to good use," he said as he lifted Lucy's chin with the flat of the ornately fashioned blade, his slanty eyes showing lust for the younger Queen. "In time, perhaps it could even become beautiful as the flowers of the desert."

Although in grave danger, the Valiant queen starred daggers at her tormentor, earning her the anger of the prince. Rufus, suddenly furious that anyone, even a queen, should defy him, turned the blade, forcing Lucy to lift her chin higher. A small trickle of blood ran across the youngest queen's chin, pooling on the Calormene blade. Slowly it dripped off and splashed to the stone floor as the siblings watched helplessly, murderous fury in their eyes.

"You villainous scum! How brave are the princes of Calormen that they make war upon women? Our sister outmatches you in both nerve and boldness!" Edmund exclaimed indignantly. He swung his manacled wrists, knocking the blade away from his sister's throat.

A metallic clang filled the still air, echoing in the small chamber. The prince lifted the scimitar. His eyes narrowed in rage as he beheld a gouge on the sharpened edge where Narnian and Calormene steel had met and the southern metal had emerged from the conflict the loser. Turning to face the monarchs of Narnia, he leveled his cold, malicious eyes upon Edmund. The Just king was not to be tested, and he stared back just as determinedly. Suddenly, as if inspired, a wicked smirk spread across Rufus's thin lips.

"Soldiers," Rufus spat, "this _boy_ needs to learn a lesson. Take him and his brother to hold. Tell the captain, he will sleep with the rest of the sailors, as the prizes will occupy his cabin."

As soon as Peter was free Lucy engulfed him in a hug, followed by Susan. Suddenly rough, uncaring hands grabbed Lucy by the shoulders dragging her from her brother's embrace. "Peter! Edmund!" she yelled, fighting to free herself of the steel grip of the Calormene soldiers that held her back as she watched her brothers dragged off. Susan elbowed a guard and was nearly free, but stopped when the selfsame guard grabbed her hair.

"Lucy, Aslan is control of our situation. Remember he loves us and that I do too," Peter's reassuring voice carried across the commotion of the struggle to his youngest sister.

"I love you, Lu. We'll be together again I promise," her brothers called to her as they were dragged away fighting just as Lucy was.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own it any of the familiar cannon characters, it all belongs to C.S. Lewis. Any one else is mine.

Thanks: I'd like to thank God for the inspiration and for my creativity, my beta reader elecktrum, my Mother who listened and encouraged me, and for everyone who reviewed.

Susan stared out the large window of the captain's cabin as Cair Paravel grew smaller in the distance. Tears of grief and bitterness rolled down her cheeks. What had been sunny beautiful day before their capture had turned into a cold and stormy night. Even the earth of Narnia seemed to be mourning its rulers capture and departure. Gigantic waves slammed against the side of the ship and the wind howled like person grieving, as the rain pounded against the glass windows. Thoughts spun through her mind as her sister paced around the room, looking for any crack or cranny that would help them escape. What was Aslan doing? Was this his plan? Was he sending them back?

The small, shabby cabin was very different from any Narnian ship and consequently The Hawk did not sail as smoothly. The abnormal little jerks and creaks of the corsair annoyed and distracted her from her blissful memories and musings, bringing her back to the angry shouts of the sailors, the memory of the last desperate rush of the army, beaten back by the merciless Calormenes; and back to the reality of their fate. There were no Narnian songs chanted by the sailors to calm and reassure her, no escape that she could see.

A gasp of surprise jolted her from her thoughts.

"Lu, are you alright?" she cried out as she ran over her sister. Lucy sat back on her heels, having tripped and fallen on a loose board. She pointed excitedly to a small spot were one board overlapped another, fastened together with a small, rusty hook-and-eye.

"Susan, look! A smuggler's hold!" The excitement was evident in the Valiant Queen's whispered exclamation. "Rufus must not have known about this! He'd never put us in here otherwise! There's a room below! Look! Here, help me! Carefully!" They quietly lifted the small door, wincing as it groaned with age and lack of use and coughing as years of dust flew into the air.

"You're right! I'll go down and make sure it's safe… By the way Lu, where did you learn about smugglers' holds from?"

Smiling smugly, the younger queen said, "The old Edmund."  
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Silently Susan dropped into the dark hold. It was nighttime, and the chamber below was dark. Landing, she reached up for the small candle her sister handed down to her. As the light penetrated the dark room, bugs scurried away, heading for darker regions and making Susan squirm with uneasiness. A quick sweep of the area told her she was in a small, hidden room. It was very dirty and appeared not to have been used in years. As she walked, her sandals left footprints in the dust. A door to the hold was to the side of her, cut so perfectly with the grain of the wood as to be invisible from the other side.

"There's a door down here. I'm going to find what it leads to. Stay here, I may need your help to get back up quickly," she whispered softly to her sister above.

"Be careful! If anyone comes, I'll whistle like a nightingale. And you'll meow if you hear anyone coming. Like when you played with Mrs. Tabby's month-old kittens," Lucy said, bubbling with excitement.

Quietly Susan listened at the door, hearing nothing but the snores of sleeping men and her own breaths. She placed her hand on the door and pushed. Strangely, the door opened without a sound, and she slipped through into the lower deck of the ship. Like a ghost she softly crossed the large, long hold, stepping over the sleeping army, and nearly falling when she tripped on a snoring soldier's outstretched arm. Catching herself she froze, listening for the sounds of alarm declaring that she was found out. They never came. The soldier, used to being hit much harder than that, simply turned over with a grunt went back to sleep. Soon he was snoring soundly again.

Nearing the bow, she saw her wheaten-haired brother amongst the sleeping guards. He was chained up again and his open eyes stared down at something on his lap with a mixture of sadness and worry. From a distance it looked as if a red and blue blanket was laid across his lap, but as she crept forward she saw that it was the bloodied back of her younger brother. Noticing the faint light of the candle, Peter looked up.

"Susan?" his hoarse voice rasped excitedly.

"How bad is he?"

The older king just shook his head silently "He didn't cry out, but I know it must have been awful for him. We need to clean these wounds, but there's no water," the High King finished, a desperate look in his eyes.

"Peter, have you or Edmund had anything to eat or drink all day?" voiced the concerned queen, taking in the gaunt and exhausted frame of her eldest brother. His hair was dirty and unkempt and there was a large bruise his cheek.

"They gave me a little food but I gave it to Ed. We haven't had any water or anything to drink since last night, or was it breakfast?"

"I still have a little wine in my goblet and the washing-up water from this morning is still fresh."

"Be careful, Su," he whispered, the anxiety in his voice matching his expression for a fleeting moment. It was testimony to his fear for Edmund that he did not protest her plan to return and she knew his simple warning said far more than he could put into words.

Noiselessly, Susan walked back to hidden room and whispered up to her sister, "Lucy, can you hand me my goblet and the pitcher of clean water?"

"Why, what did you find?"

"Can you just do it? Please, Lu. I'll tell you later… Hurry!" Suddenly there came the sound of someone coming down the steep steps into the hold. Susan flattened herself against the wall as the man's heavy footsteps came to a halt. Moments passed, then a coarse, suspicious voice called, "Who's there?"

"Meow," Susan called in her best cat voice, an imitation fair enough to fool kittens and seasick soldiers alike.

"Stupid, mangy cat!" the soldier muttered, stomping away. Susan listened as he walked the length of the hold, then exited through a door at the far end. With a sigh she released her breath, then looked up at her sister's wide eyes. They exchanged a look of pure relief, and then Lucy hastened to fetch the water.

"Here," whispered the Gentle Queen to her brother as she pushed the goblet into his hands. "Drink it all." Under her watchful eyes, Peter obeyed.

"Oh! Your hand. Let me see it," she exclaimed softly, taking his bandaged hand in her soft, gentle ones.

"No, it's fine. Really," the eldest king replied unconvincingly, drawing it back quickly.

Sighing, she reached forward and grabbed his wrist, her strength a match for his in his weakened state. She untied the knot and slowly began to unwrap the bloodied bandage. The High King permitted himself a hiss of pain as it came away. The wound beneath was red and swollen, and Susan fancied she saw infection in it. Many a young girl may have disgusted at this sight, but not the Gentle Queen. Yet, for all her feminine graces, she was neither nervous about blood or wounds, having served on the battlefield and assisted the army's healers in the past.

" May I clean it?"

"Susan, they don't care if a prisoner to be executed has an infected hand. It won't matter."

"Peter Pevensie! I can't believe you just said that. You still trust Aslan don't you? Because if you don't why should we? Now stay still." Finally one bit lip later, she was finished. As she re-bandaged her older brother's hand, she glanced at the criss-cross pattern of cuts across Edmund's back, the half-dried scabs, envisioning the absolute agony he must have endured and was still enduring even in his sleep. She asked, "How will we clean his back without him crying out?"

"He won't," Peter answered confidently.

And with that they began to clean the Just King's back.

* * *

**There's a picture of "The Hawk" on my profile for those who are interested.**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: You know the drill. No, I don't own them. We all know who wrote them. There I've said it.

Edmund woke up to the sound of shouting and a cry of pain from the captain's quarters, above and to the far side of the hold. As he tried to get up, a sharp, burning sensation shot through his back that almost forced him down again. Hissing in pain, he forced himself into half-sitting position, as his memory coming back with a fury. Rufus had been threatening Lucy and he had knocked the blade away her; angered, the prince had had him dragged from the cell to the hold of the ship and had him flogged. He could still remember the whip as it dug into his back. His poor older brother had been forced to watch it all. After that, things were uncertain. He'd had something to eat, but then what...? Who had bandaged his back?

He looked at his brother, eyes closed and apparently blissfully asleep. But when the next cry was rang out, he saw Peter wince, and he knew his brother was instead praying. Praying for help; strength, safety, salvation, and for their sisters. Finally words were heard through the boards.

"You sneaking little brat! You worthless runt! You're not good for anything, nothing but causing trouble! I should have you flogged right now!"

Edmund's blood boiled. How dare that prince call Lucy such names! he silently raged. His breath caught in his chest though, when heard the sound of someone being knocked to the floor or falling.

"Place a lock on this little room. Let's see how she does without any food or company."

"No please don't..." Susan's pleading voice rang out. A sharp slap silenced her cry.

"And take my brother's jewel to new lodgings!"

When the sound of feet had died away, Edmund turned, as much as he could, to his brother.

"Peter, we have to help them! What can we do?"

"Pray, Ed. Long and hard," Peter sighed, defeated.

* * *

Edmund felt miserable. It had been days since he'd seen the light of the sun, or felt the cool wind against his face, since he'd ridden Phillip or not awoken to the creaking, groaning ship as it was tossed on the waves. Small things he had taken for granted were now denied and he missed them. Days since everything had been right. 

Narnian ships were smaller and swifter, though they had less of a hold for cargo. They were also designed to enhance the gentle rocking of a sea voyage, whereas Calormens' did not seem to care about the jolts of the waves as long as they could bring home the most treasures. Unfortunately, he thought to himself, he was now part of that 'treasure.'

He groaned and lay down on the dirty, smelly, splintery floor beside Peter and closed his eyes, hoping to drift off to sleep as his brother finally had. Just as he had gotten settled, he heard the sound of feet softly crossing the floor that was thankfully devoid of guards.

A soft, familiar voice called out his name. "Edmund?"

"Lucy! How are you? Did he hurt you much?"

"Only a few bruises, my gallant brother," Lucy said, her voice light and teasing, dismissive of her own woes, as she seated herself on the dingy floor. Her hand swept across his forehead, brushing the stray locks out of his eyes. His forehead was warm, very warm. "It could have been worse."

"That…. that….that scum. I'll make him play for what he's done," he fumed. Then his expression turned to one of relief. "I so was worried about you."

"How is Peter?" the brown-haired queen asked, looking over at the High King. He looked old, much older than twenty-four years, as if the weight of the world was upon his shoulders. His kingly face, although beginning to show the look of malnourishment, had a peaceful expression.

"He's sleeping, thankfully. His hand seems to be fine."

"He looks so weak and exhausted, you both do. I didn't know he was treating you both so badly. I knew that he wouldn't keep you as well as he kept Susan and me, but I thought… I just thought that being a prince he might know better," she finished with a sigh. "You know… If Oreius were here, he would not even let you near the armory till both of you had at least lost your gaunt look, maybe not even then," she added with a chuckle.

"Here Lu, help me sit up. I need to if I'm going to be able give you a proper hug." With some effort she helped Edmund into a sitting position.

"I missed you so," the younger girl whispered as she hugged her brother tightly.

Biting the inside of his lip hard, he returned her embrace, trying to hide his pain behind a smile. He must have failed miserably, for as his sister drew back, she saw that all was not right with the Just King. His face was pale and he panted exhaustedly.

"What's wrong, brother?" the young queen exclaimed softly.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it. I guess I'm just really tired."

"Tell me, Edmund! Susan told me nothing when she returned." Grabbing his shoulders, she forced him to look at her, intended to make him listen but all she caused was a hiss of pain.

"He whipped you, didn't he? Oh I'm so sorry. I didn't even think."

"It was worth it. If I had to I'd do it again to protect you, Lucy. How's that cut of yours?"

"Please let me see it?"

"No, it's bandaged. It's fine."

"Grimacing, trying to smile and pretending that everything is fine, and hissing in pain is NOT what I call fine, Edmund Pevensie," the chuckling girl replied in a tone of obvious mock frustration. So comical did she look trying look angry when she really wasn't, that he started to laugh despite his pain and present situation.

"Alright...Wait. . . . Quick, get back to the room! Someone's coming. Come back later if you think it's safe."

"No Ed, you're sick. They can drag me away and lock me up somewhere. I'm not leaving you and Peter. I'll not be cowed by this prince a second time."

"Please go, Dear Sister," the dark-haired king begged the pain of refusal clearly evident in his eyes. "I could not bear for something to happen to you. Please leave."

A firm shake of her head was her answer as the loud sound of boots drew closer.

"Lay down and close your eyes."

"Alright Lu, but please be careful," he whispered, a look of fear, invisible to most except those who know the Just King spread across his face as the came closer.

"You there! What are you doing here?" the high-ranking tarkaan officer asked, as he roughly spun Lucy around to face him.

Gathering herself to her full height, the youngest queen said with all the authority she could mange, "For you knowledge, Sir, the Prince himself has order me to look after this boy. I shall be Prince Rufus' wife once we reach Tashbaan. Now would you provoke his anger by questioning his orders?"

At the suggestion arousing Prince Rufus's fury, the soldier's face paled considerably, then hardened. "How do I know you're right? And if you are not, how do I know you aren't going to turn me in for disobeying orders?"

"Do you really want to chance it, Sir. . ." the Valiant replied coolly.

"R-r-regingard, Your Highness. Regingard is my name, most gracious lady."

"Now bring food and drink, and see to that no one hinders you or I shall have, to have you punished."

"Yes, o most favored of the Prince." And with that he was gone and soon back with some of the best food; chicken roasted with apricots, fish with curry, and figs, dates, and a rich, sweet pastry for desert.

"Thank you, sir Regingard. You have shown yourself most virtuous and kind. I shall always remember your service," said Lucy kindly.

Startled, and could it be blushing? he gave a little bow, then left.

Turning to wake Edmund, she heard to the right of her, "My, what a little conniver we have here."

"Peter!"


	6. Chapter 6

**I don't own Narnia, I just enjoy going there in my imagination and borrowing it.**

Lucy looked at her slender wrists shackled with chains similar to the ones that cruelly held her brothers. Two days ago a very furious and frustrated Rufus had thrown Lucy down into the hold and locked Susan in different cabin. Her siblings had not seen her for days.

The creaking and groaning of the steps heralded the arrival of the soldiers as they climbed down into the hold. Lucy cast a frightened look at her brothers, a look that needed no words to express its meaning. The ship had arrived at its destination and Lucy was afraid for her oldest brother's life as rescue or escape would be nearly impossible.

"Lucy, don't worry. Aslan is still in control, he watches over us, no matter where we go," Peter comforted.

"But Peter. . ." she said, breaking off as the guards appeared and began unlocking the fetters around Lucy's wrists.

" 'is 'ighness wants 'er fer som'n'. Yer to take 'er to 'im," a guard ordered, dragging Lucy to her feet and shoving her into another sentry's arms. "Feisty lit'll thing ain't she, Ameer?" he joked to the other man, then set about releasing the kings' chains from the wall. Peter and Edmund watched in murderous fury as their younger sister was roughly dragged away.

"We shall avenge Narnia and our sisters' grace, brother."

"Aye, we shall Edmund."

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As they were brought up from the hold onto the deck of the ship, suffocating heat engulfed them. Before them stood cheering crowds waiting for the monarchs of Narnia to be paraded through the streets.

Lucy looked up at her eldest brother. He stood calmly and stately as he surveyed the unwelcoming crowd. By his stance and apparent fearlessness, no one could have observed any worry. But Lucy could see beyond his peaceful composure. Beneath his façade there was fear. Smiling up at him with a knowing look, she slipped her hand into his and gave a reassuring squeeze, and without looking down he returned the gesture.  
**  
**

"Peter, Narnia was not the only one they attacked," she said, pointing to the deck of a royal Terebinthian ship. On its deck stood the bound, youthful ruler, Lord Andros of Terebinthia, his lady, and their charming daughter and son. Their adorable younger son was missing. Standing behind them were the rulers of Galma and their miserable, insufferable daughter.

"I met Lady Ellawyn, after I was dragged away. They brought her and her daughter over from their ship to serve Susan and myself. She told me they didn't have time to warn us and that they were ordered to break alliance with us. For refusing, they were captured and their islands overtaken."

"But where is the governor of the Lone Islands, Lu? Where are the nobles of the Seven Isles? Perhaps they were not attacked, though it is unlikely, being friends of Narnia," the High King questioned.

"I do not know of the fate of the Seven Isles, dear brother, but I am told that the governor of the Lone Islands has betrayed us and ceded from dominions of Narnia."

As she finished, the door to one of the other sleeping quarters opened and Susan was led out, her head held high. She had been bathed, as had Lucy, and a few jewels adorned her. As she passed her siblings she smiled, the tiniest of smiles, and then it disappeared. With a rustle and a clank, the soldiers attached Lucy's chain from to Peter's wrists and linked Susan's to Edmund's.

"Alright, come now, 'is 'ighness don't have all day! Come on now, move!" the soldiers shouted, sneering as the kings and queens of Narnia were herded down the gang plank.

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"Way! Way! Make way for Prince Rufus the Victorious, conqueror of the barbaric northern lands. Way for the barbarian spoils." And that was how they were paraded through the streets of Tashbaan, with a crier shouting and running ahead of the prince's victory parade. They lay upon litters but were chained hand and foot. The kings unfortunately had not fared as well and though their appearance did not look like kings, one had only to look in their eyes to know they were. They were chained to the litters and forced to walk behind in their ragged and filthy clothes.

Following Narnia's monarchs walked the rulers of Terebinthia and Galma and their lords and ladies. Also free Narnians such as horses, dogs, leopards, panthers, and a boar. As if it were a holiday, the rich, the poor and even the slaves had came out to see the rulers of Narnia being paraded through the streets and to exclaim over the treasures of the barbaric lands; some of them waiting with filth and sticks in hand to fling at the hated northern barbarians. Trumpets blared and the crowed cheered, mostly because it was expected. Some pointed, some laughed, some few jeered, and a few even threw mud despite the criers' orders to the contrary.

"Look at the barbarian king, he doesn't look so high now."

"Look at that one, looks like he need to learn his place."

Just as they passed a group of unpleasant and nasty, sneering nobles, a young servant mother gave a cry of distress. Her small girl had just run out into the street. Surely she would be injured by the guards or crushed under the animals' hooves. But before she could move, her daughter tossed a beautiful flower to Lucy, and scurried back to her mother, earning some looks and quite a few shoves as she threaded her way back through the crowd.

Lucy caught the flower and turned to find the girl in the crowd. Seeing her peek from behind her mother, she smiled a brilliant smile back at the girl. A real genuine smile of warmth and kindness, and as Lucy passed by a cheer of admiration went up, though it quickly changed under furious glares from the prince.

Now the street they had been traveling along soon began to climb, winding itself round and round, the high hill upon which the city had been built. Soon everyone's feet and bodies began to feel hot, dusty and very tired. Higher and higher they climbed, where cool, sea breezes began to blow away the stench of poverty and refuse. On and on the victory procession went, past more statues of the gods and heroes than a person could easily remember and past finer and more ornate palaces, many with lovely gardens.

As they climbed higher, Peter, who been very fit and healthy upon their departure, stumbled and fell. Slowly he picked himself up, only to collapse a yard or so further.

"Get up!" a solder behind the High King yelled, kicking him. "Get up, prisoner." Without avail, the king tried to climb to his feet only to collapse and be kicked again.

"No!" Edmund yelled, when a whip was drawn struggling against his chains as his brother was unmercifully battered. Four stokes fell before an officer restrained the tormentor's hand. It was Regingard, the very same that had aided Lucy. **  
**

"His Highness Prince Rabadash, made it quite clear that the prisoners were not to be spoiled. Halt now soldier or must I report you?" the tarkaan-officer commanded. Bending down and he helped Peter up. It was a very bruised and bloodied High King that made it to his feet.

As the parade continued and everyone fell back into line, the soldier that had beaten Peter whispered harshly into Regingard's ear, "Never order me like that again, brother, or I will, I promise, inform our prince of your assistance to the little Narnian brat!"

"I'll remember that, brother," the officer said dryly.

All too soon they reached the ornate place gates, decorated with symbols of Calormen from an earlier age of taste and refinement. Inside, a familiar figure stood waiting: Rabadash and around him stood flatterers ranging in age from youthful to grey-haired. Once they were safely inside the flowering and smooth-tiled courtyard and away from the ears of the common people the litters were lowered and the kings and queens unchained from them. Oh, how good the cool, even pavement felt to their tired feet, instead of shifting dirt and dust!

Then Rabadash came forward and the "greetings" began.

"Here is your prize, oh my brother," Rufus stated, gesturing to the glaring, raven-haired young woman that was to be his sister-in-law. "I have saved her just for you and have kept the second best for myself."

"You have the many thanks of my heart for claiming back my dove, though your own jewel shines as brightly, Rufus, O beloved of my father," his older brother replied.

"Ah, here is the Valiant Queen Lucy who fought at Anvard, with beauty nearly  
as radiant her sister. And this must be Peter, the High King. For one whose warrior fame has reached even the ears of my father, yet you were taken with shameful ease. Perhaps your renown is not so well deserved, and perhaps your execution will come as a relief," the haughty older prince sneered as he wandered amidst the captives.

"Greeting to you, O Prince Rabadasssh," Lucy began, stressing the last syllable more than was quite necessary. "Your great renown and reputation for peace also precedes thee," she finished, curtseying with all the innocence and formality of a proper greeting.

With a deep and threatening scowl, he continued on down the line of prisoners, his anger growing with each step he took. The thing that provoked the prince the most was not the defiant glares, nor the furious looks, but the bearing with which the kings carried themselves. A stance that exuded kingship without use of crown or power, a kingliness he could never, would never have.  
"Well Edmund, we meet again," Rabadash chucked. "I trust your accommodations have been satisfactory."

"They have not, but I could hardly expect more from the likes of you and yours," the younger man responded. His face conveyed nothing, as it did when he was passing judgment, yet his eyes flashed with steely determination and defiant anger, and his tone also carried a bite. Enraged, Rabadash struck Edmund, knocking him the ground. Slowly the Just King rose to his feet, his eyes blazing with anger and hate.  
"Susan my darling, my love, how long has it been? Five years since we were together?" crowed the elder prince, standing before the eldest queen and stroking her smooth, fair arm with lustful delight in an attempt to sooth his fury. "Now we shall be with each other forever. Wasn't that most generous of my brother?"

Suddenly, before anyone had a chance move or shout, the Gentle Queen hit the prince's cheek with her fist. "Cease these drippings of poison from your fanged mouth, Rabadash. You and your soldiers have captured and harmed my family; do not even think you will ever win back my love."

Hearing these word he shoved Susan, dashing her to the ground with one strong blow. As Edmund helped her up, the prince hissed, "You will learn your place, Narnian vixen."

Silently he gestured to his guards to restrain the two struggling kings. Then grabbing Susan by her arm and twisting her around, he whispered into her ear, "You forget, my sweet, who holds the power over your dear siblings. I could have your whole family killed right now just for that little insult."

"Only Aslan has the power of life and death," the eldest queen hissed back with fierce, proud passion.

"Be quiet or I shall run your eldest brother through right now before your own pretty eyes," he spat, turning her around to see a spear leveled at Peter's chest and sword at the throats of her youngest siblings. Finally seeing that he would get not a moment of satisfaction and that the royal siblings would back down, he shoved the Gentle Queen into a tarkaan's arms with all the brutality he could muster.

"For your insolence Gentle Susan, know that you have just moved your dearest brother's execution one week earlier. He shall die at dawn on the morrow a week hence. Push no father or you shall watch as he dies."

"Take the Jewel of Elegance and Desert Flower to their quarters to ready themselves for their weddings. Cast the prisoners into the royal dungeon," he ordered in his accented voice, refinement differentiating his voice from the soldiers and sailors they'd heard that past week And with that he left, sweeping out of the crowd towards the palace followed by fawning nobles and sneering courtiers.


	7. Chapter 7

I had to repost this chapter after losing it/reposting a chapter accidentally so please pardon any errors. For constructive critiques, please be sure to reference where the mistake was so the author can find it and correct it. I also wanted to say, I don't know if Capegio's Fanfic "Twisting Fate" inspired this chapter, but if not, I think she's got some pretty cool fanfiction anyway. "

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Deeper and deeper they went, down into the bowels of the castle. Water of questionable dripped from the ceiling, falling with a plop, plop, plopand making both the wall and stone floor slick. Lichen seemed to grow in plenty on the slimy walls and the air was heavy with the smell of mold and with other things that would make a person's stomach churn. There would have been have been rats aplenty in this dungeon as well but it seemed that the prisoners were treated so badly sometimes that not even the rats themselves could survived.

Somewhere off in the dungeon, someone was groaning in pain. In another corner another voice sobbing their heart out. The sunlight was completely obliterated down here, and it would have been completely dark if not for occasional torches placed at intervals along the way. The cold of being this deep underground seeped into through the walls, and seemed lock the dungeon in its cold embrace.

Unlocking the door, one of the guards thrust Edmund through the doorway to land on his hands and knees. His hands, still chained, gave way under the weight of his body causing the younger king to skid slightly across the harsh stones.

The guard was about to shove the High King into the next open cell when a cold voice called out from from behind the pair "Wait." Steps resounded through the cold corridor, coming to a halt behind the guard and his prisoner. "The High King and I must have a talk first," the voice continued.

Pain forgotten for the moment, Edmund lept to his feet, only to have the dungeon door slammed in his face...literally. Locking eyes with Peter, he sent a message of strength, love and courage to his brother. "Aslan, go with you," he mouthed, then the two kings were separated. One left to watch and pray, the other to endure. . .

Stumbling, he was dragged by the guards through the dungeon corridors of the Tisroc's castle. Cold stone walls and heavy, dark wooden doors blurred together as passed endless iron torches. Everywhere was the feeling of pain, cruelty and smell stench of death. At the sound of a key clicking in the lock, he raised his heavy head. As the door swung open, he saw through wearied eyes, torture devises of every kind. "Aslan, give me strength," he mouthed silently, before he shoved into the room and the door was shut behind him.

It was some hours later when the younger king, heard a footfall in the corridor. Waiting quietly in the shadows, he listened for his brother's step. But it never came, several guards passed, throwing a surly looking man into a cell on down the line. More passed coming to collect a prisoner from a nearby cell who pleaded and wept, begging not to be taken, as he was dragged away.

Then finally after what seemed years, the guards came half-dragging, half-carrying what looked to be a motionless sack. Throwing it into the cell next to the Just King's , they left after attaching chains too it. With a groan, it moved and youth's heart dropped down to his stomach as he saw the figure's blue eyes open and look dazedly around.

"Peter!" the cry ripped from youth's parched throat. Painfully, Edmund limped over to the opened side of his cell, where only bars separated the brothers. "Peter," he whispered quietly, fighting the lump in his throat.

"Ed?" the figure gasped, his unfocused eyes searching the room.

"Right here, Peter," replied the younger king, reaching as far as his torn back would allow and taking hold of his brother's hand. "Always..." he whispered, and thus they stayed like that till morning.

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Hey folks, I just noticed some notes from a beta-ing draft got left in. Sorry about that.


	8. Chapter 8

**I have so many people to thank who have been helping me, better my writing especially with this chapter. I wish I could name them all but I sadly can't recall all of them. A speacial thanks go to 's E-Inklings writers group and to H Max Marius.**

Silently Susan turned the key in the rusty lock and she stepped into her elder brother's cell beneath the Tisroc's palace. The darkness and cold of the room engulfed her and none of the light from the torches mounted on the wall outside shone in. Mold and fungus grew plentifully, and the origin of the water dripping down the grimy walls was questionable. A small breeze from a crack in the wall blew across Susan's face, carrying with it a horrid stench of things that made her stomach churn. There was no grate in the wall to the road above, not even glimmer of sunshine in this wretched place.

There at the back of the cell sat Peter in his torn and stained Narnian garb. Her heart wrenched as her eyes fell upon his starved and bloodied form. His eyes were closed and his head lay back against the filthy wall. Susan winced inwardly as she saw his arms were shackled above his head.

A small cut ran across his bruised cheek. From the injuries visible on his body, it was obvious to Susan that the despicable creature, Rabadash, had a 'meeting' with Narnia's magnificent king and extracted a price from him, for his and his siblings defiance.

Slowly she knelt in front of him and as quietly as she could, unlocked the shackles from his wrists. Flinching at her touch, his blue eyes slowly flickered open.

"Susan?" he rasped, a small wheeze escaping on the heels of his question. The expression he wore was one of confusion and surprise and relief. Holding a finger to his badly chapped lips, she softly shushed him, seeing how every word hurt his parched throat.

"Here, drink this," Narnia's Gentle Queen ordered, pressing the chalice to his mouth. Hastily, Peter drank, his parched lips not able to draw enough water in. Suddenly, he choked, coughing fitfully and gasping for breath.

Setting the ornate goblet down, Susan propped her brother up as he leaned forward. For several horrifying moments, she wondered if her brother would asphyxiate. Water trickled down his cheek forming a pool at the tip of his chin, then dripping to the floor.

When Peter had regained his breath again, the gentle queen helped prop up her brother again. "Lucy?" He queried.

"Shh, shh. She's safe."

Exhausted, he laid his head back and closed his eyes, sighing as sleep overcame his tortured body. Smiling faintly, Susan brushed a few golden locks out of his face. Oh how peaceful he looked in sleep, his face un-frought by anxiety and pain.

But the peace hardly lasted. He lurched forward, eyes starting in the haggard face. His intake of breath rasped like stones over the damp walls; it grated to her very soul. "He tried," he said slowly, painfully, weakly. "Now I see...so close. Nearly they fall, who stand. Oh, Susan. . .Susan, he was so close to making me deny him."

"Who?" asked Susan, her voice caught in her throat.

Dropping his head on his chest, he whispered one word, the anguish evident on his face. "Aslan."

The gentle queen stroked a few hairs back off of her elder brother's face, watching him drift off into uneasy slumber again.

"Susan?" Lucy called out softly. She stood in the half-lit corridor, the light from the sputtering torch on the wall framing her figure. Edmund was beside her, farther back into the shadows. He leaned heavily on his sister's slim shoulder. "I've got Ed. Reiningard was able to secure us a few minutes."

She turned, surprised at the appearance of her two youngest siblings. Quietly she observed her younger brother and sister as they entered the filthy cell. He looked as if he hadn't slept in a few days, and his breath sounded harsh and pained. Her eyes scrutinized him, taking his whole frame and searching for any further injuries. He also seemed to drag his left leg behind him, but with the shadows she could not tell clearly.

Reaching his elder sister's side, Edmund's knees buckled underneath him. Lucy, taking the brunt of her brother's diminishing weight, lowered him gently down. Her heart clenched painfully at the sight of her strong, knightly brothers reduced to weak, starved prisoners.

Half crawling, half draging his body, the Just king made his way over to his injured brother and pulled his brother's body into his lap.

A large stain of dark red on the left leg of Edmund's breaches caught Lucy's eye. "Edmund, what happened?"

"Rabadash," he muttered, turning back to his brother to survey the extent of this brother's injuries. "After we were separated in the courtyard, they brought Peter and me down here. They threw us into our cells, but Rabadash wanted to speak privately to Peter. I don't know how long it was but when..." He paused, taking a breath and swallowing, "When they returned, they were dragging him like a flour sack, he didn't even look alive."

"If only I had my cordial..."

Her brother turned to back to lock eyes with her in silent question.

"No Ed. They didn't take it. I left it in Cair's in the treasure room remember?"

"Oh Aslan. What have they done to you this time, my brother?" She heard the younger king's agonized hoarse whisper. "And why in all of Narnia to you?"

"Come, Lu, help me," Susan hissed. "We have them get out of her while there's still time!"

At that moment, the High King's eyes opened. He woozily tried to rise, thinking perhaps he was being woken up for another torture session, but he was unable too. Slowly as his eyes regained focus, he began to notice his surroundings. His siblings all looked down at him with various, worried expressions.

"Ed? Lucy? Did...Did he hurt you?"

Lucy chuckled humorlessly, "Have some care for yourself, brother," as she dabbed at the gash on her brother's shoulder, that showed through a tear in the ragged cloth.

"What ...What happened...to you?" Edmund finally managed to choke out, his voice hoarse and full of emotion.

"He tried to break me, Ed. I nearly denied him...But it's so fuzzy still…"

"Shh…" Susan shushed him, once more laying a gentle finger to her brother's lips. But it availed her none for the High King merely shook his head, pushing himself halfway up.

"I remember we went through a dark hallway, and then….then a key turning in a lock. The door opened, and …" he paused and shook as if shuddering at the memory. "Every terrible device you can imagine…. was there…" Exhausted, he fell back, breathing hard. Looking up at his brother's face, the older king saw it was a mix of sadness and stern fierceness. He also saw that his brother was close to cracking. Unshed tears lurked in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, Peter," Edmund whispered softly.

Tiredly, and not without a measure of pain, Peter reached for his brother's hand. Clasping it in his own, his eyelids drifted shut.

The three of them spent a little while longer, just relishing being each others presence and being with each other again. All to soon, Reiningard was there telling them their time was up. Then came the bitter parting; for Edmund must go back to his own cell and the girls to their rooms. Brothers' cheeks were brushed with sisterly kisses, blessing given, farewells said and then the two queens departed for their quarters.

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**Comments and constructive critiques are welcome. If the grammar is wrong, if a word is left out or misspelled, or a sentence reads awkwardly, the author asks that you mention them respectfully. For constructive critiques, please be sure to reference where the mistake was so the author can find it and correct it. Anything else, any rude comments or flames or otherwise; the author kindly requests that you do not comment.**


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